Sunday, May 5, 2013

Translations: O My Son by Adam Fathy

Do not cry, for the sorrows of the youth
go like a dream with dawn,
and soon you will get older, O my son,
and want for tears, but they will not flow.

If rain stayed up with us,
or the cold covered our streets,
then warmth will build our limbs,
and the flames of the Earth will flow in us.

And if a song is hoarsely sung to you,
or a bare foot groaned,
then the suns of your comrades will come,
and they will rise from the wrath of poverty

I may be thrown behind walls,
and you might feel nostalgic for my love and affection.
Then look in your heart, you will find me.
The chain will not overpower the thought.

I will embrace you while the chest is injured,
I will love while the heart is butchered.
No matter how much the wind storms against me,
I will never bend my back.

If a lifetime passes us,
and I go to where I am enshrouded,
continue, after me, the journey.
Do not miss the dawn’s appointment.

Trees will not irrigate your plants,
you will not build, with groans, your walls.
So bellow at fear if it visits you.
Do not fear the fire from embers.

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